Tremors
by KeepCalmAndWriteSomething
Summary: The Quidditch Captain rested his chin on his hands, regarding the boy beside him and his recent behavior, which had been very un-Percy-like indeed. Written for TheGreatAndPowerfulMoz.


**Author's Note:**

This was supposed to be a Christmas present for **TheGreatAndPowerfulMoz**, but this was harder to write than I thought it would be. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to scrap it and start over, but Moz is my BOFFEIEBITE and I love her so I had to stick it out. This was the result. I'm not entirely sure about it, but oh well. I hope you like it, Moz! Things wouldn't be nearly as interesting without you! Betaed by the lovely Someone aka Me. :)

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"Oi!"

Percy jerked to a stop, his head whipping around to determine the source of the noise. Oliver grinned, his lips stretching across his face in a great Cheshire smile.

"I thought the Weasley brood always went home for Christmas."

Percy hesitated a moment or two then held up a book in response. He could just make out the title of it from his seat by the fire. _The Codex of New Transfiguration_.

"I have to do well on my NEWTs, and you're mad if you think I'll get any studying done at home," he explained.

Now it was Oliver's turn to be confused. "You gave up Christmas with your family … so you could study?"

Percy shrugged uneasily and flung himself down in a nearby armchair. "I'll have time to spend with them later. When I've passed the NEWTS and graduated. When I'm Minster of Magic," he said, smiling proudly.

Oliver chuckled. "Minister, aye? I could see that."

Percy cocked his head to the side, a small hopeful smile sweeping across his features. "You could?"

"Sure. I mean, you're awfully good at giving orders from what I've seen," Oliver teased. A wicked gleam filled his dark brown eyes.

Percy scoffed and stared past Oliver at the flames dancing in the hearth. "What about you?" he asked without ever looking up. "Why aren't you home?"

Oliver's entire body tensed and he frowned, though Percy didn't see. "My parents are getting a divorce. I get tired of hearing them fight sometimes."

This got the other boy's attention, and he met Oliver's gaze with a pitying one. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Oliver shrugged and shifted uneasily in his chair, uncomfortable with the personal turn the conversation had taken. "It happens," he offered noncommittally.

Percy seemed to notice the change in the atmosphere, because he cleared his throat and said, "Well, I better get studying then. If you need anything, I'll be in the library."

Oliver nodded, but Percy had already turned towards the door. There was a definitive click as the portrait swung shut.

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Oliver awoke the next morning to white light filtering in through the dormitory curtains. He gave a groan as he stretched in a very catlike manner before rolling out of bed and landing nimbly on his feet.

Percy, Oliver noted idly, was already downstairs. He was probably already in the library studying. Oliver snorted. He had no intention of wasting his holiday on something as trivial as schoolwork. In fact, he thought as he ripped aside one of the burgundy curtains and gazed out the window, today would be a perfect day for a little broom riding.

The grounds were smothered in white, the light bouncing off the snow and reflecting back to blind him. The Black Lake sat peacefully under a layer of ice, a splotch of dark paint against a blank canvas.

Oliver had always loved this kind of weather – the first snowfall when everything was pure and clean, before the children came through and spoiled it with their sleds and snow angels. It was peaceful. That wasn't a feeling Oliver usually had and he relished it now.

Suddenly, a small movement caught his eye and drew his attention to the edge of the lake. Percy Weasley was there, standing almost perfectly still. Truthfully, Oliver didn't know how he had missed the shock of red hair before.

The Gryffindor Keeper pursed his lips as an idea swept over him. Then he grinned. Oh, yes. What a lovely idea. He turned and hurried to dress, bounding down the dormitory stairs a few minutes later.

Soon enough, he was outside, creeping towards Percy's spot by the lake. Since he was making a conscious effort to stay as quiet as possible and not alert the redhead of his arrival, it was awhile before the other boy came into his line of sight.

Bending carefully, Oliver scooped up a handful of snow and applied pressure until it formed a semi-round clump. Grinning his Cheshire grin once more, the young boy took aim and – **fire!**

Oliver didn't wait to see if his attack struck home. Instead, he immediately dropped to the ground behind a small hillock, ignoring the snow that burned against his exposed skin. Hearing an indignant splutter, Oliver bit down on his tongue to refrain from laughing.

Suddenly, there was the sound of stomping feet coming in his direction. Then he found himself staring blankly up at a very angry Weasley hovering above him. In his anger, his face was almost as red as his hair.

"I'll have you know that I could take points away for assaulting a Prefect," Percy spat angrily as he ran his hands through his hair to rid it of the snow that clung to it still.

That was the moment Oliver completely lost it. His laughter exploded out of him, filling both the icy air and the thick silence between them. He laughed until tears poured from the corners of his eyes and he could scarcely draw a breath. Percy's cries of "What are you laughing at?" and "Shut up, you bloody idiot!" only fueled the fire.

Oliver's hysterical laughter ended in a sharp screech as he received a face full of wet snow. He gaped up at the boy above him who now wore a very satisfied expression. Oliver's lips curved into a disbelieving half smile. "Did Perfect Prefect Percy just retaliate?"

Percy's smirk rapidly melted away as Oliver smoothly rolled to his feet and lobbed another snowball at him. "Retaliation means war!"

The redhead squawked and scrambled in the opposite direction, desperately seeking cover.

"There's nowhere to hide, Weasley!" Oliver bellowed, lobbing a few more snowballs in his general direction.

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"I'm hungry. Let's go get something from the kitchens," Oliver announced.

Percy breathed a heavy sigh, never looking up from the book he had been reading. "We've just had dinner. How could you possibly be hungry?"

Oliver grinned wildly and shrugged. He grabbed the other boy's hand and hauled him quite forcibly to his feet, saying, "Well, what can I say? I'm a growing boy."

Percy snorted, but allowed himself to be pulled – book forgotten entirely – from the common room and down the stairs to the portrait of the bowl of fruit. As Oliver came to a halt in front of the painting, he realized somewhere along the way he had forgotten to release Percy's hand, now a comforting pressure and warmth against his own. He quickly let go, trying to pretend he hadn't noticed the blush on Percy's cheeks.

As they entered the kitchen, a swarm of house elves set upon them. They were led to one of the tables in the room as the elves scrambled to place plate after plate of food in front of them. He always felt slightly overwhelmed by all of the attention, but was glad for it nonetheless.

Oliver grabbed a treacle tart and devoured half of it in a single bite. Speaking through a mouthful of food, Oliver attempted to tell Percy the should eat something – _indulge a little_ – but the only result was unintelligible garble. The redhead's eyes narrowed.

"You're utterly revolting," he replied, but Oliver noticed he picked out a chocolate éclair from a plate overflowing with pastries.

The Quidditch Captain rested his chin on his hands, regarding the boy beside him and his recent behavior, which had been very un-Percy-like indeed. "Percy, you've been … different lately."

He cocked a brow. "Different how?"

Oliver shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I don't know. You just seem more relaxed."

There was a long silence and Oliver was sure he had said something wrong. Percy seemed slightly uncomfortable and that strange blush had risen to his cheeks once more. Finally, Percy spoke, his words almost swallowed by the gentle noise of the kitchen. "I just feel like I don't have to worry as much when I'm with you."

Grinning widely, he stuffed the remainder of the treacle tart in his mouth. "What's to worry about?"

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On Christmas Eve, he found Percy staring out the window. It had started to snow again – much harder than it had all winter. Percy turned his head when he approached and shot him a strained smile. "I didn't think it would bother me so much."

"What?"

"Being away from my family on Christmas."

Oliver pursed his lips. "Well, of course it would bother you. They're your family. You're bound to miss them no matter how bothersome they can be." He leaned forward and blew a hot breath across the window causing a large portion of it to fog up. Then he drew a crude Christmas tree, complete with a star on top and a pile of presents underneath. "But at least you're not alone," he whispered, meeting Percy's eyes again.

Suddenly, Oliver's lips were on Percy's and he wasn't sure how it happened, but he didn't really care much. All he knew was that kissing Percy didn't feel wrong at all and he never wanted it to end.

Then he realized Percy wasn't kissing him back. Oliver pulled away just far enough to see his expression. The redheaded boy was standing very still, a slightly dumbfounded look resting on his face. His lips flattened into a very thin line and his voice was practically nonexistent when he spoke. "What are you doing?"

Oliver leaned in again, so when he shook his head, their lips brushed slightly. "I don't know. Do you want me to stop?"

All of Percy's breath left him in a rush and it was hot across Oliver's face. "No, not really."

Oliver smirked as their lips connected once more and Percy's hands reached up to twine in his hair. A tremor shot through his body when his skin made contact with Percy's and he shuddered, wondering why people thought this was so wrong. Merlin, if he had known it would feel this way, he would have kissed Percy long before this.

When Oliver reluctantly pulled away, he saw Percy was blushing again. He smiled and ran his fingers across his cheeks, delighted when the color only intensified.

"Oliver, I want to tell you something," Percy began, uncertainty shining in his eyes. "I've always …"

At the boy's silence, Oliver grinned. "You've always what? Fancied me?" Percy nodded, suddenly finding the floor more interesting than the conversation they were having. "I wouldn't expect that from Perfect Prefect Percy. But I'm glad because I think I fancy you too."

Grabbing the front of Percy's shirt, Oliver sealed their lips together again and then there was no more room for talking.


End file.
